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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29026179">Wavering</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/smooth_operaptor/pseuds/smooth_operaptor'>smooth_operaptor</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Fucking in the Age of Loneliness [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>All Elite Wrestling, Professional Wrestling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Fingering, Dirty Talk, Episode: AEW Dynamite 20 January 2021, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Phone Sex, Size Difference</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 03:34:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,126</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29026179</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/smooth_operaptor/pseuds/smooth_operaptor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>What the fuck has he gotten himself into.</p><p>---</p><p>Orange tries to have phone sex with him, but Chuck doesn't know how he feels about this whole situation</p><p>(Takes place around the 01/20/21 Dynamite)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Orange Cassidy/Chuck Taylor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Fucking in the Age of Loneliness [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2052237</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Dynamite</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This angle is breaking my brain.<br/>I should be working on my thesis presentation but Im distracting myself with this horny nonsense.<br/>Also Chuck is v fucking moody in this, tell me if it feels too ooc<br/>(I have a chapter 3 planned where he bangs Miro instead bc Im messy and live for drama)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Miro is my best friend now,” he manages, hoping the words are enough for Miro. Hoping Orange will hear the insincerity. </p><p>Orange looks at him, up there in the stands, looks back at him and stands still. Chuck can’t read his face. Is that grief or disappointment? Betrayal?</p><p>They haven’t talked since last week, haven’t strategized. Does Orange have a plan to save him? Is this goodbye?</p><p>Chuck feels a lump forming in his throat and looks away. Kip is standing right beside him and jeering on Orange.</p><p>For a moment he considers shouting for Orange, consequences be damned. Making it clear to him, to everybody that Chuck Taylor isn’t going to go down without a fight. He’s already lost Trent to these fuckers, he <em>needs</em> Orange to know-</p><p>When he looks back up, Orange is already retreating up the stairs, back turned, disappearing into the unlit audience behind him.</p><p>Unable to move, fight, run, between Miro and Kip, who clings to him in a mock embrace, he stares at Orange as long as he can see him still.</p><p>The crowd showers him in boos and he wonders if Orange will even have him back when Miro’s through with him.</p><p>What the fuck has he gotten himself into.</p><p> </p><p>He shrinks back under the glances of the people backstage. They shouldn’t see him like this. </p><p>There is shouting coming from somewhere down the hall. Miro leads them further back towards their locker room.</p><p>Someone compliments Penelope on her match in passing. They ignore Chuck completely. As if he didn’t stick out in his ridiculous tuxedo. As if they didn’t care he didn’t belong with these people. Last week, at least people showed some concern when he was practically abducted after his match.</p><p>The knot in his stomach tightens.</p><p>“Come on, Charles, say something nice about Penelope’s match too,” Miro orders him when they’re alone again, walking down some corridor. He gets a forceful nudge in the arm for good measure.</p><p>“Yes, please tell my <em>beautiful</em> fiancée how well she did. She pinned her clean!” Kip grins back over his shoulder and winks at him.</p><p>Penelope turns and arches an eyebrow at him in anticipation.</p><p>“Yeah, you did good,” Chuck mutters. His eyes flicker back up to meet Penelope’s and he gives her a sharp nod.</p><p>“Oh Charles, I think you can do better than that!” Miro tells him with an audible smile and grabs his elbow.</p><p>Chuck stops short and turns to face him fully.</p><p>“Do you guys expect me to cheat for you every match from now on?” he asks heatedly. </p><p>“It is not cheating if you win,” Miro tells him. There is a twinkle of danger in Miro’s eyes when he meets them. Chuck doesn’t dare to argue with that logic.</p><p>“You see, unlike your little team of disrespectful idiots, we are very successful.”</p><p>“Trent and I challenged for the titles twice!” he tells him indignantly.</p><p>“Yes, Charles, but how many did you win?” Miro smiles at him.</p><p>Chuck deflates.</p><p>“But don’t worry Charles, I meant every word I said back there. Trust me and I can elevate you to new heights, Charles.”</p><p>“You just want to humiliate me and my friends,” he says meekly. The knot is making him vaguely nauseous now.</p><p>“Charles, I am an honest man, I am the Best Man! All I want is to give <em>my</em> best friend the wedding he deserves.” He gestures over to Kip and Penelope, who are already down the hallway at their locker room. Kip gives them an exaggerated wave and thumbs up before he follows Penelope inside.</p><p>“And you could really help me with that. Charles, isn’t that what friends are for?” The fucker sings the last bit. Chuck wants to roll his eyes at somebody in commiseration but there’s just Miro. So he just grits his teeth and flashes him a strained smile.</p><p>“There we go, Charles!” Miro pats him on the shoulder approvingly and then guides him down the hallway with his hand at the small of his back, “Let’s get you home.”</p><p>The knot in his stomach slowly eases, maybe out of resignation. It could be worse, he guesses. He’s not going to trust Miro, not yet, not ever, but he can manage to work with- work <em>for</em> him.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Orange</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Chuck feels conflicted and calls Orange.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They stay in town for a night longer.</p><p>It’s so strange, Chuck thinks to himself, not rooming with Trent or Orange. He’s not even at the same hotel as Orange. It’s a fancier place than he’s ever stayed at.</p><p>It’s gaudy, he decides. He doesn’t want to enjoy this. A gilded cage, right? That’s what people call it? Yeah, this is one of those. Miro probably put him here because he knew Chuck would be uncomfortable, just to fuck with him.</p><p>Or maybe it’s just a nice gesture. An olive branch, a sign of good faith. He isn’t really locked in here, not like some pretty pet songbird. He isn’t at Miro’s beck and call, although who knows when that might change.</p><p>He sits on the bed and stares at the door to Miro’s room. It looms .</p><p>If he strains his ears, he can hear laughter coming from the other room. There are shadows moving around the little slit of light under the door. It feels like a taunt, like a threat. </p><p>Any second Miro could come over here and order him to do weird and stupid shit. He thinks about locking the door, but Miro definitely has a key, right? And even if he barricaded it with one of the overly solid looking armchairs, who’s to say he wouldn’t just bust through the wall, Kool-Aid-Man-style? Dude is freakishly strong. He idly rubs the small of his back. He had tapped out to that submission last week too quickly. He just gave up. Gave up on the match, gave up on himself, gave up on Orange-</p><p>His eyes start stinging and he presses the heels of his hands against them. He sits there like that, for a few minutes. Head in his hands, his elbows digging into his thighs, a laughter making it through the walls.</p><p>Eventually, he sits up again and shakes his head a few times. He should drink something. Make Miro pay for the mini bar. Place like this got to have some good stuff in there.</p><p>He goes over to the mini fridge and looks inside. The cold light streaming out has him blinking a few times. There’s a nice selection of beer and liquor in there and even-</p><p>The bottle of Tropicana makes his heart skip a beat. He kneels down and stares at it. This is ridiculous. He reaches out for the bourbon, wavers, and takes his phone out of his pocket. Then he closes the fridge, spares one glance at the door to Miro and locks himself in the bathroom.</p><p>There’s a bathtub in here and a dark oak commode. The rest is marble and sharp lines. He leans back against the door and squeezes his eyes shut. Then after a steadying breath, he sighs and calls Orange.</p><p>Orange picks up after the first ring. There’s the phone static on the line and an electric hum from the lights in the bathroom, but there’s nothing from Orange. Chuck bites his lip and doesn’t know how to break the silence. The hum starts to drone in his head and he massages one of his temples with his free hand.</p><p>“Why’d you leave me behind with them?”</p><p>There’s no answer except for the rustle of clothes as Orange shifts.</p><p>“You <em>actually</em> turned on me, man,” he adds petulantly.</p><p>More rustling and a creak as Orange sits down somewhere on the other side.</p><p>“I made a mistake.” He swallows around his dry mouth.</p><p>“Shouldn’t’ve done that stipulation.” He sighs.</p><p>“It’s fine,” Orange answers finally. It’s bullshit, though he sounded sincere enough Chuck decides not to snap back. </p><p>“I miss you already,” he says instead and shakes his head.</p><p>“I’m here,” Orange says and a small weight lifts off of Chuck.</p><p>“Thanks, man.”</p><p>If he concentrates, he can hear Orange’s breathing in the silence over the phone. His own breath slows to match it and some more tension leaves his body.</p><p>“Are you alone?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Chuck gives a perfunctory look around, “I’m hiding in my bathroom right now. Sorry if there’s a shitty little echo.”</p><p>He hears Orange chuckle softly and then ask, “What are you wearing right now?”</p><p>That gets a surprised laugh out of him.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Indulge me.” He can hear Orange smile over the phone.</p><p>Chuck shoots himself a look in the mirror and smooths his hair away from his face with his free hand.</p><p>“Okay, well I’m not wearing the tuxedo anymore, <em>obviously</em>.”</p><p>“Shame.”</p><p>“Oh fuck you, Orange.”</p><p>“Nah dude, I think you look good in it.”</p><p>“Well too bad, I’m comfy as fuck right now.”</p><p>“Would you wear the tux for me some time when this is over?” Orange asks innocently.</p><p>Chuck splutters.</p><p>“Too many bad memories?”</p><p>He takes a moment to think about it.</p><p>“Hm, no. If I get to keep it, I definitely want to make some good memories in it.”</p><p>“We could make some good memories right now,” Orange practically purrs over the phone and they laugh again.</p><p>“Told you, man, I’ve locked myself in here. I’m not gonna go out there and risk seeing Miro for this.”</p><p>“Would you? If I asked you to?” he asks with a sudden intense tone.</p><p>“Orange-“</p><p>“I’m not asking you, but would you? For me?” Now Orange’s voice is sonorous and low, enticing and unhurried.</p><p>His dick gives an interested twitch. That asshole is too good at this.</p><p>Fuck it, two can play at that game, he thinks and sighs into his phone sensuously.</p><p>“Yeah,” he admits, “For you.” If he were on a landline he would playfully curl the cord around his finger for added effect.</p><p>He gets a little laugh of recognition in response. He decides to push further.</p><p>“Where are you right now?”</p><p>“Mmh, I’m alone in my room. I wish you were here.”</p><p>“Oh yeah?”</p><p>“Mhm, wish you were lying next to me on the bed right now.”</p><p>Chuck’s heart gives a pitiful flutter. He recalls the last time they were together like that, just a couple weeks ago.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” he whispers, “I’m so sorry I’m not there with you.”</p><p>“Chuck.”</p><p>“What.”</p><p>“You’re ruining the mood.”</p><p>“Well, fuck <em>me</em>, Orange, <em>you’re</em> not the one who’s stuck here with these assholes-“</p><p>“Chuck.”</p><p>“-So I really think I get to be a sad piece of shit about it whenever I want.”</p><p>“Chuck.”</p><p>“What.”</p><p>“You’re making this harder than it needs to be.”</p><p>“<em>You’re</em> making me harder than I need to be.”</p><p>He hears Orange break out in laughter over the phone. He smiles, despite himself.</p><p>“Let me take your mind off all this, Chuckie.”</p><p>“Won’t fix things,” he grumbles, because he needs to get the last word in.</p><p>“What was that?”</p><p>“I said ‘Yes Orange, please have pity sex over the phone with me.’”</p><p>“Chuck.”</p><p>“Okay, okay, sorry!” He laughs in surrender and clears his throat to collect himself.<br/>
“<em>Hey,</em>” he continues in a deeper voice, grinning smarmily. He waggles his eyebrows, even though Orange can’t see the gesture. </p><p>He feels off. Maybe he should go to bed. Even with the door locked behind him, the room is so big, he feels exposed and vulnerable here.</p><p>“Hey yourself,” Orange answers. Chuck focusses on his voice and tries to relax.</p><p>“Chuck, I wish you were here with me.”</p><p>Chuck exhales. He can imagine the hotel room Orange is in. He can imagine himself in it.</p><p>“You’re on the bed right now?”</p><p>“Yes, I’m sitting on your half.”</p><p>There’s a small sting in his heart.</p><p>“It’s dark in here and I’m looking out the window at the skyline,” Orange says and he hears him lying down, “I don’t even know what hotel you’re in.” He adds, “Maybe you’re not so far away.”</p><p>Chuck shakes his head softly. He looks out the window, but it’s too bright in here to make out anything of the city below. </p><p>“Doesn’t matter, I’m here with you.”</p><p>“Fuck. I want to kiss you so bad.”</p><p>“Oh yeah?”</p><p>“Yeah. I’d have you under me and I would kiss you once for every day we haven’t seen each other.”</p><p>Chuck smiles grimly. His chest is tight. Fuck.</p><p>“Oh? So you’d be on top?” He grimaces at himself for the deflection.</p><p>Orange hums an affirmative.</p><p>“I would sit on your hips and grind down on you every so often. I could feel you…”</p><p>Chuck’s breath hitches and his dick begins to harden.</p><p>“Touch yourself,” Orange says, “Through the fabric. Like you can feel me.”</p><p>Chuck changes the phone to his other hand and reaches down. He closes his eyes and hisses quietly when he cups himself through his pants. They’ve done this before, it’s so easy to see himself lying under Orange, lazily making out.</p><p>“Good,” comes Orange’s voice over the phone, “Tell me how it feels, baby.”</p><p>“It’s- it’s not enough, Orange,” he whispers.</p><p>“Tell me what you need”</p><p>“I wanna feel you,” he says and it’s barely on the dignified side of a whimper.</p><p>“I’ve got you.” He hears movement again, more fabric rustling.</p><p>“I took my t-shirt off. If you were here, you’d have your hands on my hips and I’d grind down harder on you.”</p><p>Chuck’s pants are uncomfortably tight now. He presses his hand down hard against his dick and it helps for a bit. There is more clothes shuffling, a click or a snap and quiet sounds he can’t discern. Orange sounds farther away now and he realizes he must’ve put the phone on loudspeaker to have his hands free.</p><p>“Then, I take your hand and slowly move it up my side. It’s so much bigger than mine, Chuck,” Orange breaks off and moans.</p><p>“You play with my nipple and it feels so good, Chuck.”</p><p>They are both breathing heavily by now. Chuck really wants to touch his dick, but they’re not there yet.</p><p>“I would kiss you, so long until we’re out of breath,” Chuck counters “Then I kiss you under your jaw, I kiss you down your neck. I lick your nipple and I pinch the other one… You’re so fucking pretty,” he gasps.</p><p>Orange moans again. </p><p>“Do you want to fuck me, Baby?” he asks Chuck.</p><p>Chuck’s eyes open wide and the lights blind him for a second. He staggers a bit against the door and catches himself before he slips. There’s a stool with a stack of fluffy towels next to him. He shoves the towels off, slides it over to the door and sits down on it. He presses his eyes closed again.</p><p>He nods enthusiastically, then concentrates and breathes a yes into his phone.</p><p>“I’m naked and I’m bend over the bed.”</p><p>“Do I need to prepare you?” Chuck asks him.</p><p>“No,” he moans, “I’m fingering myself.”</p><p>Chuck takes a moment to imagine the real Orange, lying alone in a big hotel bed, spreading himself open. </p><p>“For real?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Orange laughs breathlessly.</p><p>If he listens closely, he thinks he can hear small wet sounds coming through on the call. He’s had to have heard this before, but he’s never appreciated them like this.</p><p>“Could you let me listen?”</p><p>“Whatever you need, Chuckie,” Orange hums.</p><p>There’s some rustling and then, yup, the sound is much clearer now. It’s a rhythmic squelching, gloriously filthy. Orange must have several fingers in there. Fuck. He can’t take this anymore.</p><p>“Orange,” he whines.</p><p>Orange chuckles over the line and moves the phone back up.</p><p>“Take your dick out, baby, but don’t stroke yourself yet.”</p><p>In a frenzy, he sticks his phone between his cheek and his shoulder so he has two hands to fumble his pants open. He gets his hand on his dick and breathes a sigh of relief.</p><p>He picks the phone back up.</p><p>“Well done, baby,” Orange purrs and Chuck blushes, either out of pleasure or embarrassment, he’s not quite sure.</p><p>“Okay, move as I say,” Orange says, “I hold myself open and you finally sink in.” He moans again. “Fuck, you’re so big-“</p><p>Chuck starts moving his hand down his cock along with him. It’s dry and it’s definitely his hand, but he recalls the delicious tightness of Orange’s ass and doesn’t complain. He thumbs the bead of pre-cum and slowly spreads it around the head.</p><p>“We move faster,” Orange says between gasps and Chuck matches the tempo of his pumps to their rhythm. He licks his lips.</p><p>“You’re so deep inside me and I shift until you hit my prostate with every move.” Orange’s moans are higher-pitched and faster now. Accordingly, he moves his own hand quicker.</p><p>He remembers when they fucked like this once, him rocking deeply into Orange, both worried the bed was going to leave scratches in the cheap linoleum. He had gripped Orange’s hair to turn his head and kiss him. Orange’s back had been arched quite artfully and his moans were music.</p><p>Jesus Christ. He grimaces abashedly. No time for weird sex poetry right now. He goes back to imagining Orange, flushed all over.</p><p>“I wish I could see you right now,” Orange says.</p><p>“I’ll be back soon enough,” he assures him, “Only a few more weeks.”</p><p>“We could video chat. With you in that suit.”</p><p>“The tux does it for you, huh?”</p><p>“Hmm, maybe,” Orange sounds downright lecherous. He moans again.</p><p>“I’m close,” Chuck warns him.</p><p>“Oh yeah?”</p><p>Chuck starts feeling it in his stomach, his balls are tightening.</p><p>“I need you,” he whispers to Orange.</p><p>“What do you need, Chuckie? Tell me.”</p><p>“I need to come, Orange,” he whines, holding back as best as he can.</p><p>He hears Orange shift on the bed again, hears him quietly chanting his Name, he’s strung to the breaking point, until-</p><p>“Now, baby.” Pleasure crashes down on him, coursing through his limbs. He can hear Orange’s orgasm from the other end and moans his name, desperately wants to reach out and touch and <em>feel</em> him.</p><p>As he comes down from the high, there’s an insistent thudding and he flinches away from the door. Fuck, did Miro decide to come over and hear all that? But, shit, ouch, no he just hit his head against the door, unnoticed during all of this.</p><p>He sighs and reaches over for one of the fuzzy towels to clean himself up. He changes the phone to the other hand and massages the back of his head.</p><p>“Orange?”</p><p>He gets a sleepy hum in response.</p><p>“I miss you.”</p><p>“We’ll get through it,” Orange murmurs before he drifts off. </p><p>He whispers good night to him and ends the call.</p><p>They’ll get through it.</p>
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